


The Gayest Thing I've Ever Written As Of Now

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Confessions, Hogwarts Fourth Year, How Do I Tag This, M/M, draco is a stubborn drama queen, flustered Harry, kinda of, someone help him he doesn't understand what's happening
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-19 19:18:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9457001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Malfoy raised an eyebrow. “You're telling me, that just because I’m your slimy, no-good Slytherin rival that I can't tell you how special your blasted face is, shower you in obnoxious public affection, or slow dance you wearing the finest robes money can buy?”---Or:Malfoy is really frekin gay for Harry and Harry doesn't understand what his life is anymore





	

**Author's Note:**

> Me: *is literally the least qualified person on the planet to attempt to write anything remotely romantic*  
> Me: *writes this trash*  
> Me: eyyy

“Potter.”

Harry pressed his lips together into a thin line at the drawling voice. He whipped around, his posture rigid.

“What do you want, Malfoy?” He questioned sharply, green eyes narrowed at the blonde.

Malfoy scoffed, crossing his arms. “You don't have to be so hostile, Potter. I just wanted to ask you something.”

“Whatever it is, the answer is no.” Harry replied, cursing the tiny flare of curiosity in his mind to the depths of hell. He turned around, preparing to head back to the common room-

But something grabbed his wrist, holding it in a steady grip. “Hey!” Harry squawked. He attempted to yank his hand away, eyes blazing furiously when Malfoy simply tightened his unrelenting grip.

“Malfoy you bloody _git_ -” Harry hissed. “Let me _go_.” Harry’s hand flew to his pocket for his wand, only to have Malfoy swiftly grab his other hand, pulling both of Harry’s arms in front of him, despite the Gryffindor’s flailing.

“No. Not until you hear what I'm asking of you.” Malfoy said smoothly, the usual sneer absent from his voice. Instead, his tone was calm and patient, his eyes lacking any sort of hostility as they locked with Harry’s.

Harry growled, twisting and struggling to break free of Malfoy’s grip. The Slytherin tightened his grip further and leaned in, his stormy gaze fixed intently on Harry. Malfoy swiftly stepped to the side for a moment when Harry attempted to kick him, shooting Harry an amused look.

Harry let out an exasperated sigh, rolling his eyes. “Fine. What do you want?”

Malfoy loosening his grip, slightly, on Harry’s wrists. “I want you to go to the dance with me, Potter.”

Everything went still as Harry froze, his face heating up to uncomfortable levels. “I-I don’t… What?”

“You heard me.” Malfoy threw him a light hearted smirk that didn't match the soft growl in his voice. “The Yule Ball, Potter. The ball you don't have a date for- Despite the fact that girls keep throwing themselves at you. Do you want to go with me?”

Pointedly avoiding Malfoy’s steely gaze, Harry tried and failed to regain his composure, his darkening blush spreading to his ears. He shot Malfoy a disgruntled, half hearted glare, cheeks and ears burning. “But why? Is there no one throwing themselves at the oh-so special Malfoy Heir?”

Malfoy’s smirk twisted into a grin. “Oh, of course people want to attend the ball with me. But I want to dance with you, Potter.” He practically purred, leaning closer to Harry’s face as if he were sharing an important secret between the two of them.

“But you-...you’re… _Malfoy_.” Harry spluttered, desperately hoping someone did not turn the corner of the hallway and see this- whatever this was. He narrowed his eyes. “We’re _enemies_ , in case you've forgotten.”

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. “You're telling me, that just because I’m your slimy, no-good Slytherin rival that I can't tell you how special your blasted face is, or slow dance you wearing the finest robes money can buy?” He rasped, his voice soft and calculating. 

“Yes! Exactly! Because you hate me! And I hate you!” Harry exclaimed, inwardly cursing at the hint of uncertainty woven into his voice.

Malfoy, unfortunately, seemed to notice it. He let go of Harry’s wrists, only to entwine their fingers as he leaned even closer to the other wizard, their foreheads nearly touching. “Think I can't do romance, Potter?” He asked softly, grey eyes glittering with unreadable emotion.

“…Yes?” Harry tried, his face darkening even more that the fact his answer sounded more like a question than anything.

“Are you saying that to convince me, or yourself?” Malfoy smirked, and Harry felt his heart hammering in his chest “What's the matter, Potter? Scared?”

Harry scowled. “No.” He said, firmly.

Malfoy leaned away from Harry, giving the Gryffindor room to breath. “Then I’ll ask again. Potter, do you want to go to the ball with me?”

Harry averted his eyes from the Slytherin, giving the blonde’s hands a squeeze. “Y…Yeah, sure…”

Triumph, and the slightest hint of relief glittered in Malfoy’s eyes. “Brilliant.” He said with a grin, letting go of Harry’s hands.

Draco eyed Harry for a moment, thoughtful. “Are you free Sunday, Potter? We’ll need to get dress robes- oh! Matching ones, too. Yes. So everyone knows we’re together.” He drawled.

“Sunday…I…” Harry cleared his throat. “…Y-yeah, S-Sunday’s fine.” Harry muttered, feeling the blush on his face finally begin to fade.

“Perfect.” Malfoy grinned. “But before I leave…” He reached out and grabbed Harry’s tie, ignoring Harry’s protests, pulling the Gryffindor. Harry hesitated for a moment before dubiously sliding his arms around Draco’s waist, the fading blush returning to his face.

Draco turned his head to the side, pressing a kiss to Harry’s forehead. Harry stiffened for a moment, blinking. “You know, Malfoy, you're still an absolute git. I can't believe you actually convinced me to do this.”

Malfoy pulled away, chuckling. “A Malfoy always gets what he wants, Potter.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.”

Draco straightened out his robes. “Well, I should be going. People are going to be wondering where I am, after all.”

“See you later, Harry.” He turned, his robes billowing at his feet as he stalked away.

Harry stood there for a moment, gingerly reaching up to brush the spot where Malfoy had kissed him.

 _Malfoy_ , who he was going to the dance with.

He was going to the Yule Ball with Draco. Bloody. _Malfoy_.

And Harry had thought this year couldn't have gotten anymore crazy.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I regret


End file.
